My new boss: The enemy I created

The Familiar Face

Alexander's POV

I leaned back in my leather chair, the panoramic view of the city skyline stretching out behind me like a conquered kingdom.

The fiftieth floor of Aegis Global's headquarters was my domain. No one knew the full story of how I'd clawed my way here: the quiet kid from high school, buried in books to escape the torment, turning that pain into fuel for an empire in security and tech.

Aegis wasn't just a corporation; it was my shield, my weapon. But lately, that shield had cracks. Whispers of a data breach—subtle anomalies in our secure networks, traces of unauthorized access that our teams couldn't pin down. It was an inside job, I was sure of it.

Someone was selling secrets, and I'd been poring over employee logs in secret, trusting no one fully. This recruitment drive wasn't just about expansion; it was about fresh eyes, potential allies—or bait to flush out the traitor.

In my hands was the final recruitment list for the Assistant Manager positions in Regional Operations—a stack of pristine resumes, vetted by HR and narrowed down to the top ten.

I flipped through them methodically, my pen tapping against the polished mahogany desk. Competent faces, Ivy League pedigrees, unblemished records. I needed people who could handle the grit, who wouldn't crumble under pressure. Someone like me, forged in fire.

Then I saw her name: Sarah Evans.

My pen stopped mid-tap. I pulled her resume closer, scanning the photo—a professional headshot, but I recognized those eyes, that forced smile hiding a sharper edge. Sarah.

The queen bee from sophomore year, the one who'd made my life a living hell. The nicknames—"Nerdlex," "Loser Lex"—the pranks that left me humiliated in the hallways, like the time she'd orchestrated the locker-room ambush, dousing me with paint while her cronies laughed.

She'd led the charge, her laughter echoing in my nightmares for years, fueling late-night study sessions and the startup that became Aegis. I'd reinvented myself after that: Alexander Voss, no longer the awkward bookworm, but a titan of industry worth billions.

And now, here she was, applying to my company, desperate enough to throw her hat in the ring despite her "varied" resume that screamed instability—short stints, gaps, a trail of firings that hinted at drama.

A slow smile crept across my face, cold and calculated. Revenge wasn't something I sought often—it was beneath me now—but this? This was poetic. Hire her. Let her think she'd won the lottery, clawed her way up from whatever pit she was in.

Then, bit by bit, I'd make her pay. Assign her the impossible tasks, the late nights, the subtle underminings that would erode her spirit just as she'd eroded mine. She'd learn what it felt like to be powerless, to beg for mercy that never came.

I circled her name in red ink, then selected three others—solid candidates to balance the roster, make it look legitimate. One of them, a sharp analyst from MIT, could even be positioned to monitor the new hires discreetly.

For now, I needed to cross-reference Sarah's background with our internal databases, see if her digital footprint intersected with any of the breach patterns. Unlikely, but thoroughness was my creed.

The door to my office swung open with a soft click. Jessica Harlan, Head of Finance, strode in like she owned the place—high heels clicking on the marble floor, her tailored skirt suit hugging curves that turned heads in every boardroom.

Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, and her lips curved into that knowing smile she reserved for me. We'd been... involved for over a year now. Casual, on my terms. She was sharp, ambitious, and damn good at her job, which is why I kept her around. But the office gossip mill had spun us into some fairytale couple, whispering about engagements and power duos.

If only they knew. Lately, though, I'd caught her digging into restricted financial logs—nothing incriminating, but enough to make me wonder if her ambitions extended to the breach.

"Alex," she purred, closing the door behind her and locking it with a deliberate twist. "I saw the light on. Working late again?" She sauntered over, perching on the edge of my desk, her thigh brushing my arm. Her hand reached out, fingers tracing the line of my jaw, nails lightly scraping in that way she knew I liked. But tonight, her touch felt probing, like she was gauging my mood for more than just fun.

I set the resumes aside, leaning back to appraise her, my mind split between the immediate distraction and the nagging suspicion about the breach. "Always. But I could use a break." I caught her wrist, pulling her onto my lap in one fluid motion. She laughed, low and throaty, settling against me as her arms wrapped around my neck.

"I've missed you," she murmured, her lips grazing my ear. "We should do dinner this weekend. Somewhere nice, away from all this." Her voice dipped, her fingers toyed with my collar, slipping inside to trace my collarbone, while her other hand rested on my thigh, inching upward with calculated slowness.

I chuckled, my hands sliding up her sides, keeping it light, physical, even as I filed away her persistence. Dinner could be useful—pump her for info on those logs she'd accessed. "Dinner sounds like a plan, but let's not get ahead of ourselves." I kissed her then, hard and possessive, letting the heat build as she melted into it.

Her fingers fumbled with my tie, loosening it, while I explored the familiar territory—unbuttoning her blouse just enough to tease, my mouth trailing down her neck to the hollow of her throat. She arched against me, whispering my name like a plea, her body responding with that eager fire that made these encounters worthwhile. I shifted her on my lap, my hand slipping under her skirt, fingers brushing the lace edge of her stockings, eliciting a gasp as she pressed closer, her hips grinding subtly against me.

But in the back of my mind, I wondered: was this her way of distracting me from whatever she was hiding?

She deepened the kiss, her tongue dancing with mine, hands roaming freely now—unbuckling my belt with practiced ease, her touch bold and insistent. For a moment, I let myself sink into it, the tension of the day uncoiling as her breath quickened, her nails digging into my shoulders.

But as always, she pushed for more. "Alex, we've been doing this for so long. Everyone thinks we're together anyway. Why not make it official? I could be more than just your finance head."

I pulled back slightly, my expression cooling as I rebuttoned her blouse with efficient fingers, zipping up what she'd undone. "Because that's not what this is, Jess. You know that." My tone was firm, brooking no argument. She was useful—in the office and out—but I didn't do attachments. Not after what I'd been through. Aegis was my only commitment. And with the breach looming, trust was a luxury I couldn't afford.

Her eyes flashed with frustration, but she masked it quickly, sliding off my lap and straightening her clothes like the professional she was. "One day you'll change your mind." She lingered for a moment, her gaze flicking to the resumes on my desk. "New hires? Anyone interesting?"

I shrugged, casual. "A few."

She didn't pry even if she wanted to, she was smart enough for that as she gave a peck before leaving my office.

Alone again, I stared at Sarah's name, the red circle like a target. Welcome to Aegis, Sarah. Let's see how long you last. And as for the breach... whoever was behind it would regret crossing me, just like she would.